Harry Potter and the War of the Wizards
by Unwanted-Surprise
Summary: Join Harry and the Order as they head the fight against Voldemort
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own, and I do not take credit for the creation of Harry Potter.

Harry Potter and the War of the Wizards: Prologue

It was a cold night outside Number 4 Private Drive, but the boy who sat silently with his window open didn't seem to notice anything but the loneliness he was feeling inside. His messy black hair was looking slightly less kempt than usual and his bright green eyes were a dim as he stared, unseeing, out into the night. 

Abruptly the boy stirred and glanced at his clock. The little red letters told him it was now 2 o'clock in the morning. He rubbed his tired eyes and stood up. He was skinny and had the look of one who lost weight in a short period of time. The jeans he wore hung loosely on his hips and would have fallen but for the belt that held tight to them with effort. The shirt he wore was stained and pocked with holes around his underarms, but the boy seemed to care as much about his appearance as the cold that blew through his room and circled him like a blanket of ice. He shivered unknowingly and plopped onto his bed. 

His room was peculiar, yes it was messy like most teenagers his age, but as one would step inside, they would find a most strange arrangement of items laying about. In the corner by the boy's desk lay a trunk open and filled with unusual items for all to see; such as a cauldron and books that read _History of Quidditch by Finky Stinkbottom_, and _How To Manage You're Cauldron In Three Easy Steps_ _by Lousella Hornswallow_. Resting atop his dresser was a cage for a large bird, though none could be seen within. And placed against his bed post so that it stood straight up, was a broom stick with the words _FIrebolt_ written a long it's handle. 

Minutes passed until finally the boy drifted off into a restless sleep. A man with long black hair flashed vividly in his mind as he fell soundless through an ancient veil. The boy thrashed and tossed now in his slumber, soft moans escaping his lips. The boy called Harry Potter would wake up soon, his mind more troubled than ever.


	2. Feeling the Guilt

Disclaimer: I didn't make HP and I don't take credit for it.

Chapter One: Feeling the Guilt

Harry Potter sat up with a jolt. A cold sweat covered him and he could feel his clothes sticking to his chest, but that wasn't what he was thinking about. His scar was searing. It made his eyes water and he bit his tongue in an effort to dismiss the pain. 

The little clock in his room cast its red light through the numbers that were now in the shape of the numbers: 415. 4:15 in the morning. He hadn't gotten much sleep at all; yet he knew, tired as he was, that he could not go back to bed. He could not and would not allow himself to have such dreams again. To relive that terrible moment again. 

The Dursely's would awake soon. The sound of Aunt Petunia's slippered feet shuffling down the carpet to the bathroom, the grunts of Uncle Vernon as he slammed his fist on the screeching alarm clock, and the complaining and whimpering of Dudley as Aunt Petunia set to wake him, would soon be heard. The house would awake, and Harry would have to face yet another day with the loss of Sirius. 

Most days he found himself gazing out the window, dreaming of places far away from everyone and everything. He pictured himself sitting happily alone on an island with the sun smiling down upon his face. All the cares of the world, the loss of Sirius, all gone. He struggled every moment with guilt. He fought every thought that it was all his fault. That if he had only listened to Hermione or went back to the castle to find Snape…Sirius would still be alive….He sighed aloud and peered out his bedroom window. The sun was just awakening. Its bright eyes were just beginning to open their heavy lids and show its wonderful pink and purple irises.

Harry couldn't remember the last time he was happy. The last time he had set foot outside of his room, besides for the need of food and bathroom. The Dursley's had taken the threat made by Mad-Eye and the rest some-what seriously and acted as though he wasn't there. Harry was more than grateful for this. He didn't think he could handle their harsh words right now. 

Abruptly he walked over to his closet and pulled out some clothes. He would go out today. To where, he didn't know. He would let his feet do the walking. But one thing was for sure: he could not stay in this house. He could not remain cramped in this room. It was killing him, dragging him down. 

Harry Potter threw on his clothes and shuffled out of his room. It would be just another long, pained day, or so he thought.

Author's note: Sorry it took so long everyone. A lot of things have been going on lately. The Prom. Soccer. Publications. School. Friends. And being sick for a while. It was hard to update. I will try to write more often now. And I'm very bad at grammar, so bear with me please.


	3. Let Your Feet Do the Talking

Disclaimer: I don't take credit for Harry Potter.

Chapter Two: Let Your Feet Do the Talking

Harry had just reached the top of the steps when lo!, the harsh electronic screams of Uncle Vernon's alarm clock began to echo down the hall. There was a loud grunt and then the bedroom door opened and Aunt Petunia ambled out followed by Uncle Vernon, who lumbered along like an overweight elephant dressed in human clothing.

"Where do _you_ think _you're_ going, boy?" Uncle Vernon said his sleep filled eyes narrowing with anger as he assessed Harry who was now fully dressed and on his way down the stairs. "Get _back_ here!" He bellowed after Harry as Harry proceeded his course unheedingly down the steps.

Uncle Vernon attempted to follow him but stopped short of the last step, his mustache sticking out like a miniature porcupine resting atop his lip. Harry smiled back at him bitterly and closed the door with a snap.

The weather was the exact opposite of his mood, bright and cheery. He scowled at the sun. How could it be so radiant when he, himself, was so dim inside? He hated the weather as much as he hated himself.

And as he walked down the last step of Number 4 Privet Drive, Harry Potter did indeed let his feet do the leading as set his mind to other things. And just then, something forgotten popped into his mind. 

Today was his birthday. 

He was now 16. _Sixteen_.…The _Big one-six_. He was aware, however, that he just didn't care. Why? Because he didn't even care about life itself at the moment. He didn't care about anything. He just wanted to see Sirius again. To hear his bark of a laugh. To see his smile and hear his voice…._That's_ what he cared about.

Harry looked up. His feet had lead him right to the very same playground in which he had sat just one year ago watching Dudley and his gang of followers as they walked by singing crude songs. Sadly he noticed the swing on which he had sat was now twisted and dangling silently over the top by its chain.

He wished with all his heart that it was night. He wished for that diamond speckled blanket with its deep blue color to be surrounding him. For the night is what he related to most at the moment; and to the moon most of all. That giant piece of rock. After all, they were both alone, both floating just outside the world too far away to be included, but yet close enough to see and hear. 

Harry found his feet had began walking again. He was heading back home, his course fast and direct. All was still and quiet as he opened the door of Number 4 Privet Drive. And as he stood there on the threshold, he found that he didn't care that Uncle Vernon would be just inside waiting for him. Ready at the moment Harry walked in the door to scream and yell, his chest puffing out like a bird, his face a giant apple placed upon a watermelon that had no visible instrument to hold them together. But Harry was quiet stunned as he stepped through the door: several familiar faces were peering out at him fondly through the kitchen entryway.

Author's note: Wrote this very, _very _quick.


	4. Disapperation Buddy

Disclaimer: I don't own H-P

Chapter Three: Disapperation Buddy

"Harry! We've been waiting for you." Remus Lupin said as he walked towards Harry smiling. He looked like a man prematurely aged by worry. The wrinkles on his face seemed to have reproduced many times over the summer and his salt and pepper hair now had more salt than pepper.

"W-what are you doing here?" Harry queried with a puzzled look on his face.

"We've come to take you away. Can you go get you're things quickly? Tonks will help you, right, Tonks?" he said turning to face the girl with electric blue hair standing behind him. She smiled at them both.

"B- er- _WHY_?" Harry asked still confused. "What happened? What is Volde-"

"C'mon, Harry," Tonks interjected. "Let's go get your things!" 

Harry opened his mouth to speak then closed it again and followed Tonks irresolutely up the stairs. A sudden thought struck him.

"What happened to the Dursleys?" He questioned the back of Tonks' brightly colored head. She turned around and smiled at him devilishly.

"Ooh, well you see, Harry…. A _REPRESENTATIVE_ from a 'magazine' came by and invited them to breakfast. Told them they would be interviewed for the _Most Presentable Family _article. Naturally, they couldn't resist." 

__

"Er- Who was the 'representative'?" He asked though he was sure he already knew the answer. 

"Mad-Eye." Tonks said grinning even more broadly than before. "I wish I was there! I would have _LOVED _to see their faces when that Transfiguration Charm wore off and they saw they were stuck in that car with Mad-Eye!"

Harry couldn't repress a snort. The thought of Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley being trapped in a car with Mad-Eye struck him as very funny. 

"This is your room, right?" Tonks asked pointing to Harry's bedroom door.

"Yeah, that's it." He said as she opened it and walked in. Minutes later Harry found himself following Tonks down the stairs, Hedwig's cage in hand, and into the kitchen. There, for the first time, he addressed the other faces he had seen peering out at him earlier. There weren't as many as the first time he had been taken from the Dursley's and Harry knew everyone in the group. Kingsley Schacklebolt, Elphias Dodge, and Dedalus Diggle all stood in the kitchen watching him as intently as they had one year ago. Harry felt just as uneasy.

"…Are we using our brooms again?" He said looking at Lupin. 

"No, not this time." Tonks said.

"Then wha-?"

"We are all going to disapperate, Harry. You'll come with me. Hold on tight and don't let go." Lupin said as the rest surrounded them and he grabbed Harry into a tight hug. "This may be slightly painful to you, Harry because your body is not used to it yet. No matter what, _DON'T LET GO._" 

Harry was quite surprised. He knew you could disapperate, but he never knew you could do it _with_ someone. He grabbed onto Lupin's shabby robes as tightly as he could and waited. A strange slighting stinging sensation tingled all over his body, and Harry had the strange feeling that he was in two places at once. 

Warm wind brushed against his face and Harry looked up. The dilapidated houses of numbers 11and 13 Grimmauld Place loomed before him.


	5. Facing the Truth

Disclaimer: I didn't create Harry Potter.

Chapter Four: Facing the Truth

For the first time since he watched him fall through the veil, Harry really felt the loss of Sirius. It was like falling through ice on a freezing winter day. All the air fled from his lungs. And he swam and fought through his emotions as bitter cold reality took hold of him. He was losing the battle. Sinking….

Sinking….

Sinking….

"Harry? Harry, are you ok?" Lupin said patting him on the back. As calm as his voice might of sounded, Harry could feel a Lupin's hands shaking slightly as he patted Harry's back. Harry forced his head to nod.

But the truth was, he wasn't ok. Harry was in utter shock. He was being forced to face something he just wasn't ready to deal with yet. He just wasn't completely ready to let the death of Sirius be real.

Every morning when he woke up, Harry hoped vainly that it had all been one terrible, never ending dream. And that he would be receiving a letter from Sirius any day now. But like always, he could never ignore the bitter reality that lay deep in the dungeons on his heart, calling loudly to be set free. Well he, Harry, wasn't ready to grab the keys and open the cell. 

There would be no one to pull him out of that icy water now. He would have to fight and swim or give in to it's fathomless depths of sorrow. He didn't know which he wanted.

To leave and be with his parents and Sirius at last, to abandon all those innocent people to the wrath of Lord Voldemort and render his parents sacrifice useless, or he could fight. Fight for himself, for those he loved, and most of all get what was raging most rapidly through his veins. Revenge upon Voldemort.

Some days one choice outweighed the other, but in the end he always chose to fight. If not for those blameless people, but for retribution.

"C'mon, Harry. Remember, you have to think about it, otherwise you can't come in." Tonks said, looking at him from an invisible platform. Harry was confused for a moment, and then he remembered. Number 12 Grimmauld place. You had to think about it, otherwise it wouldn't appear. He stood there, staring at her with unseeing eyes. Harry couldn't think of it. He didn't _want_ to. How could they expect him to just waltz right in there like it was nothing? And now his mind was making room for yet another emotion.

Anger.

"Harry, I know it's difficult and believe me I know how you-" But Harry didn't here the last of Lupin's sentence. Shouts were blocking it out. His own shouts.

"You know how I feel, do you? You know what I'm going through? You know what it's like to be without parents? To live with muggles who hate and despise your very PRESCENCE? To lose the closest thing you have to a father? YOU KNOW WHAT I FEEL, EH? No, you DON'T know what I feel. ALL YOU KNOW IS WHAT'S RIGHT FOR THE ORDER. You don't CARE what I feel!! You- All of you, making me go into that house…where- where he _lived! _Where he's EVERYWHERE you look! How DARE you say you know what I feel?! You don't even know the HALF of it!!" He was suddenly on his knees. His hands on his face. He couldn't control it. He couldn't stop it. Tears were coming down his eyes. Silent rivers trickling from the dam of his emotions. 

Someone was grabbing him. Someone was holding him up. Putting their arms around him, hugging him. But Harry wouldn't have it. He wouldn't let them…Those emotionless people, impassive to the death of Sirius, touch him. He wrenched away. It was Lupin who had hugged him. He looked at Harry as though madly fighting tears of his own. Harry wiped his eyes.

"Take me inside." he said in a cold detached voice.

Author's note: A bit longer than usual. I was feeling quite down myself today. Anyways, Merry Christmas everyone!!!! ^_________^


	6. Prisoners At Large

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. I didn't create it, blah, blah, blah.

Chapter 6: Prisoners At Large

Lupin seemed to stare at Harry forever. The silence was unbearable, and just when Harry thought he could stand it no more, Lupin spoke. His voice was low and his words were tinged with pain.

"Alright…" he said looking at Harry. His eyes were red and swollen, but unlike Harry he had not cried. He was getting more of a hold on himself now, sucking his emotions back inside. 

The inside of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, was exactly as Harry had left it one year ago. Peeling wallpaper and the threadbare carpet glowed in the dim light of the gas lights. A head peaked out a the door at the end of the hallway. Harry half expected it to be Sirius, but the red hair and round cheeks of Mrs. Weasley brought him quickly back to reality. _He's dead, there's nothing that can bring him back. Stop thinking he's going to pop out of the next corner_, a voice in his head said to him. But he just pushed it away as Mrs. Weasley pulled him into a tight hug.

"Oh, Harry! I've been so worried about you! How are you feeling? You look a bit peaky, dear! Why don't you take your stuff and head upstairs?" she said releasing him and studying his face. "Go on, now! Dinner will be ready soon. Go rest while you can, dear." 

__

Go rest while you can. What did she mean by that, Harry thought as he headed past the shrunken elf heads and headed up the creaky stairs. He was still feeling angry as he trudged along, but his anger was beginning to give way to loneliness. He had no one once again. Like Dumbledore had said last year, as Harry screamed he didn't care after Sirius' death, _"Oh yes, you do. You have now lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parent you have ever known. Of course you care." _Harry had felt intense rage after that, but looking back now, he only felt alone. Terribly and utterly alone. 

Soft voices erupted downstairs awaking Harry from his thoughts. Wizards were coming in. Harry peered down at them over the banister. No familiar faces passed through, and Harry was about to pick up his things, when a gigantic shape appeared through the doorway. _Hagrid!_ He thought somewhat excitedly. Two more forms followed Hagrid through the door, and Harry recognized them as Professor McGonagall and the ever joyful, Professor Snape. He strained to hear what they were saying, but someone was whispering his name. He turned to see Ron and Hermione poking their heads through the door. Harry turned his back on them. They hadn't remembered him all summer, not even on his birthday. Why should he bother with them?

"Harry?" Ron said in a whisper. Harry ignored him. "Harry- what's wrong? Come in!" 

Harry wasn't going to budge, except the greasy form of Snape seemed to sense someone was watching and peered up at the balcony. Harry slipped back into the shadows, but Snape's lip curled into a malicious smile. He had seen Harry. He had no choice now, Snape knew he'd been listening. 

He picked up his things and entered the small room. Hermione rushed at him and hugged him. 

"_Oh_, Harry! I was so worried about you all summer!" She squeezed him tightly. Harry pulled away. 

"You'd been worrying about me _all_ _summer_, eh??" He said, his anger building. 

"I _know_ what you're thinking, Harry….B-but we couldn't help it! We couldn't send mail to you! Someone could have intercepted it! O-or followed the owl back here!" Hermione looked crestfallen as the anger in Harry's expression didn't subside. Ron stepped in this time.

"Yeah, mate…it's true. Dumbledore said we shouldn't risk it…. S-so…we decided to give you your presents here." They both looked too afraid to anger Harry. The had had many incidents last year when Harry's temper got the best of him. They couldn't blame him of course, with all that he was going through. 

"We didn't forget your birthday, Harry…. We never would." Hermione said handing Harry a small parcel. 

"Never." Ron said smiling now as he too handed Harry a badly wrapped box. Harry guessed Ron had wrapped it himself. He was finding it hard to be angry now, in fact he felt…_guilty_. Guilty for not giving them a chance, guilty for yelling at them all those times. 

"Thanks." he said quietly. He opened the gifts, feeling happier than he had all summer, as he listened and shared stories with Ron and Hermione about their summer. Hermione's gift was another book, but this time it interested Harry. The title read _Occlumency: How to Control Your Mind_. Harry knew the book would definitely come in handy…. He planned to study harder this year, _much_ harder. He would not let the events of last year happen again. 

"I thought it might come in handy…." Hermione said, seeming to read Harry's thoughts. 

Ron's gift was more on the entertaining side. It was a box of magical jokes and pranks. 

"Bought it off Fred and George. You'd think they'd give me a bargain, being as I'm their brother, but the slimy gits charged me full price!" 

Harry smiled at the thought of Fred and George. He was glad, too, to see that their shop was really working out for them. Shifting noises downstairs told them the adults were leaving. All three of them seemed to have the same thoughts as they crept silently toward the door. Slowly, they slipped out and into the shadows of the hallway. The adults were bustling out below them.

"Who is going to guard Azkaban now?" one wizard was saying. 

"What _I'm_ more worried about is what they are going to do about Malfoy and the rest who escaped." the other replied in hushed towns.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other with panic-filled eyes. Malfoy and the other Death Eaters had escaped. 

Author's note: Longer than usual, I still have more to write, but I have to get up early and finish painting. Hope u enjoy. 


	7. Learning To Cope

Disclaimer:  Don't own, didn't create, and don't take credit of HP.

Chapter Six: Learning To Cope

Ron and Hermione looked overly shocked to Harry as he looked at their faces.  He had been expecting this since the return of Voldemort.  Even Dumbledore had said it was inevitable: _The dementors would join forces with Voldemort_.  There was no other way around it.  Yes, Harry was slightly worried, but not as terrified as Ron and Hermione apparently thought he should be, because their looks of fear turned to shock and indignation at the fact that Harry had barely flinched.  He shrugged at them and headed for the room.  His anger toward them had gone, and even happiness had reached him slightly, but now, with the sudden news of Azkaban, Harry felt what little happiness he had slowly ebbing away leaving nothing left but a thick film of sadness.

"I knew there was something up, what with the adults swarming around nervously and all like they were!"  Ron said with an expression as though he had finally seen the light through the thick of things.  Hermione still remained silent, lost in thought.  Harry was about to ask her what she was thinking when a familiar voice called up to them.

"Ron, Harry, Hermione!  Come along now, dears!  Dinner's ready!"  Mrs. Weasley's voice echoed up to them from the bottom of the stairs.

The second they walked into the kitchen, the immediate tension could be felt in the air.  It was so dense; Harry felt he could have cut through it.  Mr. Weasley was unfortunately missing from the table as were Tonks and Mundungus…and Sirius…. Harry felt as though he'd swallowed a brick of ice.  He had to turn his eyes away from the table quickly.  He didn't know how he was supposed to make it through this dinner, how he was supposed to stay in this house.  What did they expect of him?  Harry felt the anger rising in him again.  He wanted to yell at every one of them. To ask them how they could stand it.  Harry just couldn't take it in.  To do so, he would go mad.  Mad with anger, with rage and hatred.  All that had been pent up since the death of Sirius would come out.  And he did not want this.  He did not want to show them his weakness.

"Harry…Are you ok, mate?  You look a bit…off color…."  

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry lied.  

"Come on then, you three, sit down." Mrs. Weasley said placing a large bowl of potatoes on the table beside a cauldron of soup.  Harry grabbed a seat between Lupin and Ron and choked back a smile.  Ron, who had been sitting next to Mad-Eye, was now the one who was looking peaky.  

"You alright, boy?" Moody said to him in his gruff voice.

"Er-Yeah…" Ron replied not making eye contact.  Apparently, while of view of Moody from far away was definitely not pleasing to the eye, a view of him up close was just nauseating. 

"Good.  Pass me the potatoes then, will you?" Moody said stretching a snarled hand across Ron to reach the potatoes Harry was handing him.  Ron bent back dangerously in his chair and fell with a thud to the floor.  Lupin and Mad-Eye grabbed him by both arms and pulled him back up.  

"Alright there, Ron?"  Lupin said patting him on the back.  

"Yeah….S-sorry, my chair must have a-a faulty leg…." Ron said quite unconvincingly.  Harry repressed a snort.  Ron looked at him indignantly.   "Shuddup, how would you like to trade seats, then?  You sit next to him!" Harry tried to put on and innocent face.  This time it was Ron who snorted with stifled laughter.  

They sat and ate their dinner, all of them tight for conversation.  Harry couldn't take the silence anymore. 

"So- that's why I'm here is it?  The dementors have turned loose?"  

All of the adults looked shocked.  A stunned and heavy silence took hold of the room, and then Lupin spoke.

"Yes, Harry, the dementors no longer are on our side as of this evening."  

"And things are no longer safe?" Ron asked.

"Ron, things will never be safe, _never_ until Voldemort has come to his grave." Bill answered with a slight note of despair in his voice. 

At that, Harry looked down.  Memories of the Prophecy echoed in his thoughts.  It was up to him, Harry, to send Voldemort to his grave, or die trying.  Either way, he must end up a murderer, or end his life a victim.  He would choose the earlier choice, if he could….But fighting Voldemort was such an immeasurable weight on his chest that he could not bear to think about it just now.  

"I-I know…" he said quietly.    

The next week went on quickly.  Harry didn't have much time to think, which he was glad about.  Mrs. Weasley had put him, Ron, and Hermione to work cooking and doing odd deeds around the house.

"Hey...where's Kreacher?" Harry asked suddenly remembering Kreacher as he carried rats to feed Buckbeak.  His hatred for Kreacher was strong.  It had been Kreacher who played a great part in Sirius's death.  Harry was actually shocked that he hadn't remembered Kreacher earlier.  

"Well, after Sirius died, there was no one left for Kreacher to obey.  He mumbled around the house for a few weeks according to Lupin, after that he got sick, real sick, and _died_.  Can't say that's a bad thing though." Ron said opening the door to Buckbeak's room.  

Harry agreed with Ron.  He was glad Kreacher was dead.  There was no telling what he would have done if he'd have seen him walking around the house one day.  _Probably have kicked the little git,_ Harry thought nastily.  Hermione was the only one to look sorry at Kreacher's death. 

"So, you feel sorry for him, do you?" Harry asked feeling his temper rising.

"Well, I can't say that I liked him, but you have to feel bad for him, I mean…he lived a hard life…."

"He caused Sirius' _death_!" Harry said outraged. 

"I know…but if Sirius would have treated hi-" 

"DON'T YOU TALK ABOUT SIRIUS!!" Harry yelled.  He didn't even realize he had stopped walking and dropped the pile of rats until a voice called up.

"Everything ok, you three?" Mrs. Weasley called up.  

"N-no, everything's ok, Mrs. Weasley…." Harry said glaring at Hermione, picking up the rat bag and entered Buckbeak's room.  

Harry got along with Hermione better the next few weeks and by the time the Hogwarts letters came, he was on good terms with her once again.

"I've got your letters here, dears.  I'll go to Diagon Alley today to get you you're books." She said poking her head through the door and handing them the envelopes.   Harry was feeling happier as he read the letter.  He would be leaving this house soon.

Author's note:  Longest Chapter yet.  Sorry took so long and it's not that good.  I've been moving.  Just moved into a new house and my computer doesn't have the internet hooked up or anything right now.  And this computer that I'm using obviously isn't mine.  I'll try to update again when I can.  


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